by Liz Crowe
The man infuriated her. How had he known exactly what she wanted to eat and drink? The combination of his light teasing, frank discussions about his lifestyle and final rejection all came so fast, she still processed it. She’d be damned if she’d let him reject her outright. She got to do the rejecting. He’d given her his address for a reason, and she intended to find out what it was. She searched around for the card he’d given her. Within minutes she sat in a taxi, pointed toward the Las Vegas suburbs.
And then she’d seen him in shorts and no shirt, glowing with sweat and glowering at her from the end of the hallway. Like a bronzed god, with his football player shoulders, highly defined six-pack, narrow waist, all dusted with dark hair…dear Lord, no man should look that good shirtless. Lale twisted her wrists again, needing something to remind her she still existed here in this room, far away from everyone and everything she cared about. Shifting her hips, she smiled at the pleasant soreness between her legs.
Emre’s voice suddenly invaded her consciousness.
No better than a whore.
Lale’s breath caught in her throat. Well, she’d certainly confirmed that tonight—following the Greek god home like a horny house cat. And now, he’d left her tied up on this stupid bed like…like a slave. A sob escaped her.
Something about him soothed and calmed her. Gave her…just what she needed. He filled an emptiness she’d carried around for years. Filled in a way that was good and right and safe. Did she deserve it?
No better than a whore.
Lale sighed. Right. Way to go. You spit on him, you stupid cow. Your damn temper has likely ruined this for you. Jesus! You bit his tongue. What man will put up with that? Tears flowed down her cheeks, dampening the silky cover beneath her head. How do I manage to fuck everything up every time? Would he really be what he said, do what he said, if she submitted?
“Andreas?” She hated the sound of her weak voice. She swallowed and tried again. “Andreas? I…I need you. Please?”
Within seconds he had her untied, unblindfolded, and gathered in his arms. She held on to him for dear life as the sobs wracked her body. He smelled of soap, of the sea she remembered from her home, of peace. The thought of not having this for herself every day for the rest of her life made her nearly frantic. But she’d blown it, acted like a child. Why would he want her now? She had no one to blame but herself.
He stroked her hair and kissed her wet cheeks. Lale barely registered his words as she approached hysteria. “You are perfectly safe here. I will never let anything harm you, do you understand? Let me…let me take care of you.” His raspy voice made her look up into his deep green gaze. “You won’t be sorry Lale. I promise.”
She nodded ever so slightly and pressed her face into his neck. For a woman who had done nothing but fight with the men in her life, this exquisite release of control blew through her like a breath of fresh spring after a rainstorm—glorious and full of promise.
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” his whispers continued. “I wanted you last night. I think I’ve wanted you forever.” She shivered again—terrified, horny, and weepy. And happier than she’d been in years.
“Please,” she mumbled. “I want…I don’t know….” She bit her lip unable to say the right words.
“Shhh…agapi mou…my love…shhh.” He laid her back on the bed and covered her mouth with his. She sighed. His lips and tongue were already so familiar, as if she’d been kissing him forever. She threaded her hands in his long black hair, moaning as the kiss deepened, bringing the promise of more. But he broke away and gazed into her eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. It’s my job to make sure you aren’t hurt.” He brought her rope-burned wrist to his lips.
“No.” She brought his head down to her shoulder. “I needed it. But the minute I got scared, you were here. Will you always do that for me?” She bit her lip. Asking for help made her a nervous wreck. She’d never been able to do it, not even with Tarkan, although he’d been one of the few men she didn’t butt heads with constantly.
Andreas lifted his face from her neck. His gaze was intense, almost angry. She gulped. “Remember, Lale? What I said about trust?” She nodded. His eyes narrowed. “Can you trust me? You have to, or this won’t work. I know it will be hard, letting go, letting me take control. But I want to so badly, I…oh, hell….” He leaned in and kissed her, possessed her, said more with his lips and tongue and hands than any words. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him on top of her. He propped up on his hands and stared into her soul.
“Evet,” she said simply. “I will try. I mean, I can be a bitch so it might not be worth your time. But I promise not to bite anymore, well, unless you want me to.”
The beautiful Greek looming over her raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t want you to stop being you, my love.” He planted small, fluttery kisses on her cheeks, down her neck. She arched up as her body started to zing with anticipation. “If anything, I want you to stay just as you are. But you must trust me with all of you. And let me have control of you, in here, when we are alone. It’s more than just fun. It’s a serious lifestyle choice.”
Lale groaned. She hooked both legs around his waist and pressed into his cock swelling against her sore lower lips. But she wanted it. No, she needed it again, tonight. “Okay, Greek. I promise I’ll try. For you.” She put her hands back over her head. “Tie me back up.” She gave him her naughtiest smile. “But don’t get cocky. If I don’t like it, my safeword is Troy.”
“Huh, clever girl. I think that’s my…third favorite thing about you.” He wrapped the cotton ropes around her wrists again, put the blindfold back over her eyes, and crawled down her body. Strong hands raised her hips, unzipped and slid her skirt down and off. He flicked the metal ball in her clit, sucked it into his mouth, then released and started over. Her hips bucked up into his face. The ropes creaked in protest. He licked further down, dipping into her wet folds, using a hand to tug on the metal, bringing a sharp edge of pain, making her raise her hips higher.
“God, Andreas…oh…yes!” She moaned as he slid two fingers inside her, pushed up high, triangulating her G-spot. He pressed against it as his lips sucked and elongated the fleshy nerve bundle she’d pierced with a solid gold ball. The orgasm smacked into her. She wrapped her legs around his impossibly broad shoulders, moving her hips against him. He groaned into her flesh as she pulsed, coating his mouth and hand with fluid. The ropes hurt, but she loved it. It has been so long since she’d come this hard…actually she never had. Her body sang out, the climax continued, pleasure rolling through her and over her like warm waves of the Mediterranean Sea.
Suddenly he disappeared. She shivered and writhed, whining at his absence. The sounds of a condom being opened and a deep sigh from the man between her legs made Lale heat up with expectation. “Lie still. Let me look at you.” She swallowed hard. He lunged up to meet her lips. She tasted herself and the glorious essence of her Greek. His cock throbbed against her. She angled her hips, needing him inside her. “This is only the beginning, omorfia mou…psihi mou…my lovely…my heart,” he mumbled against her lips. “You know that, right?”
“Yes.” Her voice was rough with emotion. She wanted nothing more than to be there, stay there with him, forever. It might be crazy, but something about him was exactly what she’d been seeking, without even realizing it.
He eased into her, his thickness spreading her, slowly this time, inch by delicious inch. He released a breath, just as slowly and whispered in her ear, “You are my tulip princess, my wildcat. Mine….”
Lale yanked against her bonds as he captured her nipple, sucked hard, and bit down, triggering another gush of fluid from her body. As she wrapped her legs around his waist, her walls stretched, accommodating him, the pain mixed with poignant pleasure. He drew back, then entered her again, firmer this time. She could smell him, sweat and man and lust. Her man. Hers. It made her rock her hips harder. The little ball pressed against her
clit with every thrust.
“Fuck…” he muttered. “I need to see you.” The blindfold disappeared. The gaze that met hers held emotion that startled her at first. He rocked in and out of her, faster, thrusting high, taking her. She closed her eyes and groaned.
“Look at me, Lale. Open your eyes.” The harsh commanding tone didn’t scare her, didn’t even anger her. It made her happy. She let her own eyes reflect her true heart, tired of pretending and searching and never finding what she wanted. Now, she’d found him.
“Please, Andreas, please, oh, God!” His body tensed and he gave one last deep thrust. His length and girth took her, filled her as she tilted her hips to allow him even more penetration. With one motion, he jerked her loose from her bonds so she could wrap her entire body around him. Their mouths collided and tears coated her face again. He broke away and called her name, coming so hard he shuddered inside her body. She bit his shoulder when the orgasm captured her, picked her up and spun her around, and left her there, in the amazing man’s arms.
As their breathing calmed, he propped himself up and gazed at her without speaking. His silence made her nervous. Had she made a mistake giving herself like this? A familiar tension stole over her. He pulled out of her body, removed the condom, and tossed it into the nearby bin.
When he laid back and gathered her close, murmuring Greek words of love in her ear, she released her last reservations. She let him cradle her, kiss her forehead, nose, cheek, and lips. “Only the beginning, my love, my precious tulip. I promise….” A slow sleepiness crept into his voice. A languorous sensation stole over her. She’d never actually slept with any man. Never sustained any relationship beyond a quick fuck. Never experienced a fulfillment as she did at that moment, in the arms of her Greek. She smiled and started to drift off to images of her family’s faces when she introduced Andreas to them.
He sighed, pressed his lips to her hair. “Se latrevo…I adore you….” She snuggled into his side, draping her leg over his hips.
“You might regret it, but I’m afraid you are stuck with me now. Go ahead and try to get rid of me, Greek.” She leaned up and bit his dark nipple. “I’ve been told I can be difficult.”
“Mmmm…I can see that.” He tightened his grip.
“But I am no slave, do you understand?” She ran a hand across his sculpted abs, lacing her fingers in the trail of hair between his navel and that fantastic cock.
He held her even closer. “I know. But I want to give you something you need, some structure. I will provide that, along with my heart. If you’ll have it.” Lale’s chest tightened. She propped herself on an elbow and traced his full lips with her fingertip. “Well?”
“I’ll have it. In exchange for mine.” He entwined his large hand with hers. “Seni Seviyorum, my Greek.” Lale couldn’t believe she’d said it but had never felt more certain about anything in her young life.
He smiled and his eyes twinkled. “S'agapo, my Turkish tulip, my tulip princess. S'agapo.”
~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~
Microbrewery owner, beer blogger and journalist, mom of three teenagers, and soccer fan, Liz lives in the great middle west, in a Major College Town. Years of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as an ex-pat trailing spouse plus making her way in a world of men (i.e. the beer industry) has prepped her for life as erotic romance author. When she isn't sweating beer inventory, sales figures or promotional efforts for her latest publication, doing pounds of laundry for her sweaty athletic children, watching La Liga on the Fox Soccer Channel, or trying to figure out what to order in for dinner, she can be found walking her standard poodles or doing Bikram Yoga. Liz loves her Foo Fighters Pandora station, and watching reruns of Deadwood, when there isn't any decent European football on the telly. If you want a beer education follow her: www.a2beerwench.com. For writing related stuff, including her backlist, go to: www.brewingpassion.com.
You can visit Liz at:
www.lizcrowe.com
You may also enjoy these other 1Night Stand books in
Liz Crowe’s Turkish Delights Series
Turkish Delights
The fifteen year age difference between Elle Kensington, ex-patriat American executive and Emre Demir, son of Istanbul's most successful businessmen, has not kept them from becoming fast friends as they tour Istanbul together. But the time has come for him to return to the U.S. to finish his master's degree and she has just been named CEO of the pharmaceutical company that brought her to Turkey in the first place. Elle adores her adopted country, and is alarmed to find herself falling in love with the young man who's been her impromptu guide for the last few months.
But she knows they can never be. She will return home to California within a month, leaving behind all she loves about the ancient city. In a rare fit of spontaneity, Elle has contracted with Madame Eve's 1Night Stand dating service, hoping to find a way to forget the dark, handsome young man who has captured her heart. Little does she know what awaits her in the ancient recesses of the Ottoman palace turned luxury hotel under the hands of her one-night stand masseur.
Blue Cruise
Caleb and Tarkan were an odd couple—men from two different cultures—so in love, they were determined to overcome any obstacles. But fate had different plans for Tarkan. Shattered and unable to function a full two years after tragedy strikes, Caleb faces the hollow shell that is his life.
Adem Broussard is happy enough, as owner and chef of his restaurant on the Turkish southern coast. But a tall, American Adonis he saw once, years ago on a Turkish Blue Cruise haunts his most erotic dreams, and he hopes contracting Madame Eve's 1NightStand service for an unconventional date will help him forget.
When Caleb caves in to his friend Elle's insistence that he return to Turkey and exorcise some of the demons that haunt him, he reluctantly climbs on board a private yacht for a special 1Night Stand Blue Cruise. There he comes face to face with the man who remembers him well…and helps him heal.
